Near discovery
by EnigmaticPenguin
Summary: Danny's secret is revealed! Well...almost. But now he must try to keep his identity secret, or at least, as secret as possible.
1. I: Near discovery

Hello everyone!

This is something of a random thought I had, which somehow became embodied in fanfiction form. It's sort of oneshot-ish, because it was too tedious for me to separate this into chapters. Besides, this keeps you guys from the torment of cliffhangers ;)

Anyway, I might as well let this speak for itself. (Before I begin ranting and/or blabbering on about something completely unrelated.)

Disclaimer: I don't own DP.

* * *

**I  
Near-discovery

* * *

**

Amity Park was buzzing with strange news. Presses were working overtime at the Amity Park Angle, and the reporters were running ragged trying to dig up information on the new hot topic of the town. There were only a handful of things that could rile up a town this much. Escaped prisoners, mysterious murders, child abductors, elections, chemical spills, and protests were just about it, but Amity Park had one other problem, one other thing that residents worried, argued, fussed, cared, and bothered about: ghosts.

To most, ghosts didn't exist. The main idea behind ghosts was that they were the spirits of deceased individuals, stuck between this life and the next, unable to move on because of some sort of unfinished business. Ghost stories are told around campfires, and nearly every town has some sort of old run-down, abandoned building deemed as haunted and avoided by adults and children alike. But the fact remained, with science to back it up: ghosts didn't exist.

Amity Park was just your average town, and they treated ghosts just about the same way as any other: a thrilling but undeniable myth. And then, about seventeen years previously, a new couple moved to the town. The Fentons moved into a well-sized house for an average family, in a respectable neighborhood. Jack Fenton was considered eccentric, but well meaning, and Maddie was the warm, friendly wife, six months pregnant and with an undeniable talent in baking.

But that soon changed. The comfortable basement of the Fenton household was converted into a laboratory for the Fenton's unusual mutual occupation: ghosts and all science involved. They made all sorts of trinkets in their laboratory, from mutilated toasters todilapidated coffee makers, all with the name Fenton in front of them and all designed for use against ghosts.

Now, this didn't happen overnight, of course. By the time their ghost-business was well set up, seven-year-old Jasmine and five-year-old Daniel were living in the house. The Fenton children were often looked down upon by neighbors, being of such strange descent, as if the infatuation with ghosts were hereditary. Jasmine remained friendless and isolated throughout most of her school years because of this, and turned from social interaction to a less biased company: books. Yes, Jasmine spent her weekends with her nose in any book she could lay hands on. Resulting from this was a deep disdain of ghosts and an exemplary grade-point average.

Therefore, when Daniel Fenton began school, he was more accepted by peers and teachers alike. But this was short-lived. Despite the fact that his sister was nothing short of brilliant, and his parents were absolute geniuses in their own way, it could not be denied that Danny was nothing short of average. The teachers, who had expected more, were less tolerant of him, and Danny was destined to be forever overshadowed by his sister academic-wise. Furthermore,he was also quiet and shy, repelling classmates like the identical poles of a magnet. But by the same token, opposites attract, and Danny found an ally in the world of kindergarten: Tucker Foley.

Although Tucker was only slightly brighter than Danny, glasses and an inborn aptitude for all technology gave him a much better first impression with teachers. And although this didn't last, he still passed all of his classes, although 'flying colors' could probably be substituted by 'walking colors'. But he was humorous, outgoing, and open, and to this day no one could really figure out why he wasn't an instant social magnet—although it was speculated that it had something to do with the techno-geek reputation. But as an outcast from playgroups in the grade before first, Tucker found Danny, and an instant friendship ensued.

YetDanny was destined to find one other friend in the cold world of kindergarten, one who just about matched him in shyness, but was forward and polite all the same. Samantha Manson, who much preferred the name Sammy in those days but now went by Sam, found the friendship of this inseparable duo when they walked up to her one day, she swinging on a solitary swing with a kinked chain.

And so, this was the Fenton family as seen by those outside of the family. Which was the entire community of Amity Park without the last name of Fenton, not including Tucker and Samantha. And this family would be responsible for bringing ghosts to Amity Park.

The Fenton Ghost Portal it was called, and the name said it all. Made by the Fentons, it was a portal, and a portal that involved ghosts. The portal, in theory, would provide a sort of passage from the ghost dimension, known as the Ghost Zone, to the human world. But in practice, it did not work. At least, not yet.

The entire town remembered the brownout that July. It had quite a few people alarmed, for Amity Park had mild summers, and often did not submit to power outages due to overuse of air conditioners. But the power came back five seconds of panic later, and not a thought was put to it until an article buried deep within the confines of the newspaper the next day: Brownout caused by local ghostologists. It caused little concern; the Fentons had done worse, including coving City Hall in ectoplasm. That incident had been cleared up, both figuratively and literally, but this would have a much more lasting effect on the entire town.

Only three people knew the whole story behind the brownout: Danny, Tucker, and Sam. But the town did not know that they knew, and the only reference to any of the three was: _Their son, Daniel (14), declined comment._

And it was only a few months afterward that the situation arose: ghosts had infested Amity Park. The incident was well-remembered; ghosts swarming the streets, half the population, including the mayor, were overshadowed, and the ghost responsible was dubbed Inviso-bill, and named Public Ghost Enemy Number One. But again, only Danny, Tucker, and Sam knew the whole story behind this, but it was Danny who had suffered the most, although he hid it well.

The next major ghost-crisis involved a ghost, or more precisely, a Ghost King. Pariah Dark he was called, and the town was in worse shape than the Inviso-bill crisis. But the situation became ironic in the end. The ghost Inviso-bill used the high-tech ectoskeleton the ghost-hunting Fenton's had developed to defeat Pariah Dark. As it turned out, his true name was Danny Phantom and he was in actuality trying to help the town all along. Many of the town sympathized and supported their savior, but a fair amount still mistrusted the ghost-boy. No one knew much about him, and no actual proof had been given that he was indeed a good ghost.

In fact, as it came down to it, the town only knew three things about the ghost boy. One was that his name was Danny Phantom. Two was that, despite his intentions, he warded other ghosts away from the town. And the third one was what had the whole town abuzz, what had made headline news, and what a certain Danny Fenton was now constantly worrying about.

For the third thing to be added to the list had been revealed by a ghost named Skulker, and proven by no less than the Fentons themselves. Danny Phantom was not even a full ghost. He had been revealed to be half ghost, and the other half had been revealed to be human.

Logical reasoning had deduced that the elusive Danny Phantom was a resident of Amity Park himself. It had also deduced that the ghost-boy was male, eliminating half of the town in the process. So now everyone was trading rumors, bandying gossip, and asking questions.

_Why hide his identity?_

_How did he become half ghost in the first place?_

_What did he have against other ghosts?_

_Why protect the town?_

_Was anyone else half ghost?_

And last, but most pressing: _What was Danny Phantom's true identity?_

Each of these questions could be answered by no less than four people, had anyone bothered to ask: Daniel Fenton, Tucker Foley, Samantha Manson, and most recently, Jasmine Fenton.

Jazz had discovered this herself, enhanced with the explanation of Danny Phantom himself.

Sam and Tucker had been there, had seen it with their own eyes, and had even taken a hand in the events that led up to the existence of Danny Phantom.

And so that left Danny. Danny Fenton. So change the 'F' to a 'PH', which makes the same sound. Next, change the 'E' to an 'A'. And then, change the final 'N' to an 'M'. Add a random accident causing the infusion of ectoplasmic energy with a human's molecules, a long and involved episode concerning a wishing ghost and an insignia, and an incredibly useful thermos. Then compare two photographs, the sound of two voices, the fact that two people are never in the same place at the same time, and if anyone in the town paid attention, they would have Danny Phantom figured out.

Danny's fears were few and far between, mainly due to his 'hobby' of fighting ghosts, but it remained that he would be worried—indeed, beyond worried—should his secret ever be leaked out.

Which brings us to the Monday leading up to the disaster, the day that would send Danny's secret into the inevitable tailspin of discovery.

"Mr. Fenton, you're late, again. Do you have an excused tardy?" Mr. Lancer asked sternly.

Danny bit back the retort of 'What would _you_ do if you'd just been attacked by a ghost who haunts boxes?' to mumble something along the lines of, "No, I don't, sorry."

Mr. Lancer clucked his tongue irritably and wrote out a detention slip for Danny, who took it and sat down.

"Now, class, today we will be studying... What _is_ it, Mr. Fenton?"

"C-can I... go to the bathroom?" Danny asked, hand in the air, as the last traces of blue vapor escaped his mouth, thankfully unnoticed by anyone.

"No," came the weary reply.

"Um... Nurse's office?" Danny asked timidly.

"_Why_ do you want to leave so badly?" Lancer asked exasperatedly.

"I don't feel well." The answer was partly true; Danny felt the presence of ghosts not only as the visibleblue breath of his 'ghost sense', but also by an accompanying sudden drop in temperature that seemed isolated to him and only him. Danny gave in to the shivers that he was by now used to suppressing, as a visible sign that not all was well.

"_Fine_, then! Just... just go!" Mr. Lancer said. He was at his wit's end with Danny; not only was the boy failing his class, he was constantly late, absent, or running off in the middle of the period for some sort of excuse.

Danny hurried out of the room, trying his best to look unwell, but the second the door closed he straightened up and dashed to an abandoned janitor's closet.

No cry of 'Going ghost!' seemed necessary, so a flash of light and Danny was off, stealthily invisible, to look for the ghostly culprit.

* * *

"Skulker," Danny said, regarding his opponent coolly. 

"Ghost boy," Skulker replied, matching Danny's icy tone.

They stared at one another for a few moments. Danny fingered the Fenton Thermos slung over his shoulder, glaring at Skulker and wondering what surprises the self-proclaimed Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter had in store for him this time. Skulker glared back, hoping that his latest trick would work on Danny, and that the ghost boy wouldn't find some way to evade his new trap.

Then the action started. Danny had a fierce onslaught of ecto-blasts, forceful punches and kicks, and impeccable aim and flying skills. But Skulker had various missiles, darts, lasers, energy beams; the best technology that could be designed and the best that money could buy. So thus it went; each giving as good as they got, the battle leaning towards neither side.

But Danny was, all things considered, only half ghost, and the only-too-human exhaustion was beginning to set it. Whereas Skulker was full ghost—moreover, a ghost stationed inside of robotic armor—and had the upper hand in this matter. Danny still had another trick up his sleeve, but one he was reluctant to use. And the time was drawing near where Skulker would put into play his new device, one that would prove more dangerous to Danny than fancy missiles with a pinpoint targeting mechanism.

By then a sizable crowd had gathered to watch. The majority of the crowd was cheering for Danny, a few were just watching to watch, some were operating cameras for local news stations or snapping photographs for the paper, and the rest were cheering on the third person to enter the fight.

Valerie Gray was once the popular rich girl at Casper High, part of the 'in' crowd all the way. Until a mishap with a relatively untrained ghost dog left her father unemployed. Although Danny had tried to stop the matter, and had in the end, Valerie had emerged from the incident with suspiciously acquired high-tech weapons and an utter disdain of ghosts, particularly one called Danny Phantom. It was not a good combination, particularly since somewhere along the line Valerie had befriended Danny Fenton.

But either way, seeing Skulker get knocked head over heals by a bazooka akin to the weapons he had aimed at Danny was satisfying, one way or another. At least, until it was turned upon Danny himself.

"I- listen, I'm sorry I showed your dad who you were, but I had to! You would've taken the Ecto-skeleton, and it probably would have killed you, which wouldn't have exactly been a good thing-" Danny appealed. But Valerie would not be swayed, and Danny dodged the blast easily, although it was a near miss.

In his moment of confusion, Skulker seized him from behind, pinning Danny's arms to his side. Danny kicked and writhed in his grasp, but Skulker's grip was as firm and unbreakable as steel.

The hunter then pulled out a device, crackling with red electricity, and smiled evilly.

"Say goodbye to your secret, ghost boy!"

Half the town was watching, and those who weren't would see it on television anyway. The device made contact with Danny as he was painfully electrocuted with a sizable amount of volts in ectoplasmic form. The shock left Danny feeling drained and weak, but the _real _shock came as the two blue-white rings appeared around his midriff and proceeded across his body. Danny tried with all his energy to force them to go back, to disappear... and they did, but Danny was exhausted, and the damage was done.

"Wh-what was that?" Valerie asked, lowering the weapon in surprise. Skulker smiled at her and replied, in a voice loud enough for the whole town to hear.

"Why, didn't you know? The ghost boy, Danny Phantom, is half ghost!"

A murmur of surprise arose from the crowd below, and reporters began scribbling so madly upon notepads that the friction was liable to ignite the paper. Valerie gaped, and nearly dropped her bazooka altogether.

"How can anyone be half ghost?" she gasped.

"Ask him," Skulker replied, throwing Danny towards her, and flew off. Danny was too weak to follow, but shouted out threateningly after him.

"Tell Plasmius he's going to pay for this!"

"Oh, don't worry, I will," Skulker called back, before he vanished altogether. Danny still watched him; he could see other ghosts, even if they were invisible.

Valerie was now staring at him, the bazooka aimed at his head.

"Explain or I'll shoot!" she spat.

"Now, do you really want to do that? If I really am...half-_unh_-half ghost, then that could be considered-_unh_- murder," Danny replied weakly. He copied Skulker's trick of making himself invisible, and flew off. He may as well go to the nurse's office now; Danny was not feeling well at all.

* * *

"Mrs. Fenton, is it possible for someone to be half ghost?" one reporter asked, pencil cocked, ready to write the answer. 

"Well, formerly it was thought to be impossible. But our recent research shows that if a human managed to survive an infusion of ectoplasm, then they would, in theory, be able to access a ghost's unique abilities at will. They would become something along the lines of a living ghost, or a half ghost. It is not impossible, but it is improbable," Maddie answered. "Besides, if he was half ghost, it _would_ explain why he apparently wants to protect the town."

"Mom? Dad? What are all these people doing here?" Danny asked, as he forced his way in through the door.

"They're reporters, Danny. They want to ask us about that ghost boy, Danny Phantom," his mother replied, "and how it is possible for someone to be half ghost."

Danny went very white, and gulped. "I-I thought you said it wasn't possible, Mom," he gasped.

"Well, actually, it is."

"Ah, so, Danny, is it?" the reporter said, turning on Danny to bombard him with questions. "So, what's your reaction to this whole fiasco? About finding out that Danny Phantom is half ghost? Do _you_ think it's possible? And please, just answer as truthfully as you can," he added, when he saw the reluctant look on Danny's face. He looked to his parents, who nodded encouragingly, and Danny sighed.

"Okay...in that order; I'm not happy about it, I couldn't care less, and I'm fourteen and have no idea how possible anything is! Now, can I _please_ go up to my room? I have a lot of homework I need to finish!" Danny appealed to his parents. Everyone in the room seemed taken aback by his outburst, and Danny stomped up to his room and threw his backpack down, eyes following him as he did so.

"I'll go talk to him," Maddie sighed, and followed Danny up the stairs.

"Danny?" she asked, cracking the door open. When no one answered, she opened the door further. "Danny?"

The room was empty. It was as if Danny Fenton had just suddenly disappeared.

* * *

Outside, Danny Phantom flew to City Hall. He had to make an announcement, and that seemed like the best place to do so. Danny perched on the roof and waited. 

A crowd gathered, cameras winked at him, and his parents pulled up in the Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle. Danny deemed the moment ready, and got up, clearing his throat.

"Um, excuse me. I have something I kinda need to say." Danny took a deep breath before continuing.

"There's been a lot of confusion here. And, well, I might as well come right out and say it." Danny had never before been so grateful for the slight echo his voice had when he was in ghost mode. His real voice would have been far too easily recognizable otherwise.

"I won't deny it; I'm half ghost, and half human. I don't really understand how it happened myself. But, really, I had a reason to keep it secret from you all. I mean, I don't want other people to think of me as a freak; enough ghosts already do. I just wanted to keep at least half of my life as normal as possible.

"So, ever since the ac- erm, the bizarre and completely random incident, which could have really happened to anyone, that led to me becoming what I guess you can call a halfa-"

"What's a halfa?" someone called from below.

"Um, well... It's sort of a term other ghosts use for someone like me... Half a ghost, half a human... halfa," Danny shrugged. "I don't really like it that much. But, anyway, so, the incident happened, and somewhere along the line I ended up fighting ghosts and getting rid of them. And it hasn't been easy, let me tell you..." Danny stopped himself before he began telling the entire tale of six months' worth of fighting ghosts, and sighed.

"Anyway, I get ghost powers, and I decide to protect the town. Do you _really_ need to know any more than that?"

But the murmurings from the assembled town proved that they really _did_ need to know more. Danny crossed his arms and tapped his foot in annoyance, but the town didn't seem like stopping any time soon. In fact, the original whispers were heightening to a crescendo of voices. Danny put two fingers to his lips and whistled sharply. He was surprised how well it worked; everyone jumped and quit talking immediately.

"Okay, so I want to actually keep my secret—as much as possible, at least—so can you please just accept that I'm half ghost, and... I just don't want everyone to find out what my human identity is! Like I said, I want at least half of my life to be normal." Danny almost laughed aloud at this; since _when_ was his life ever normal? Compared to some of the things his family did, being half ghost seem almost average.

"Is your human name Danny?" a journalist asked.

"What the-? No," Danny said, with a surprisingly believable finality. "I mean, if I was going to change my name, don't you think I'd do a good job of it and change my first and last name? What kind of idiot wouldn't do that?" Danny mentally kicked himself for that; it sounded lame. The journalist seemed to buy it though, and scribbled furiously upon his notepad.

"Anyway..." Danny said, then stopped as a wisp of blue vapor escaped his lips. "Well, duty calls! Um... Goodbye, I guess."

And with that, he disappeared, to go confront the Box Ghost for what was the second time that day.

* * *

The town babbled for days, even weeks, afterwards. But try as they might, no one could seem to discover the elusive Danny Phantom's true identity. Danny himself shrugged off requests for his insight into the matter, with lame replies that people actually bought. 

One thing was for certain: Danny Phantom's popularity increased significantly from that day onward. Valerie would remain as stubborn as ever, but then again, that was Valerie. Still, sometimes Danny Fenton wished his social status would do the same.

And so, life proceeded as normal in Amity Park. Or at least as normal as life could ever be in a town which housed the most renowned ghost hunters in the world, and their own town hero.

* * *

So, what do you all think? This was just something random that came to me. It started with wondering what the town would do if they ever found out about Danny. Then somehow that got warped into the town's view of the Fenton family and Danny Phantom overall. And instead I made them only find out that Danny was half ghost, not the whole truth and all that other stuff... 

Anyway, I'm not exactly sure what I originally intended this to be. But it worked out in the end. For now, this is a oneshot, but I may add to this later if I get any further inspiration to expand upon the plot.But, for right now, this is all I have for ya.

For those of you who are reading any of my other fanfictions... I am still working on TSS, and am about halfway through the next chapter. And I'm pretty close to finishing with the next chapter of HF, just a little editing and it'll be good to go. I try not to make promises I can't keep, because unexpected stuff keeps popping up, but I will try to at least get HF up by the end of today, and TSS up before Sunday.

I hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving, and now will ensue the terror of leftovers and turkey casserole!

Happy Belated Thanksgiving, everyone!  
-E.P.


	2. II: Repercussions

Hey, everyone! I was going through some files and stuff in my computer the other day, and there are A LOT of files in here. And that's just in MY folder. Ah, but, besides the fact that the amount of memory left in my computer was probably hit by the Fenton Crammer at some point, I rediscovered this little thing. I reread it, and, well… I decided that the time was ripe for some work. Plus, it's a three day weekend, and I was kind of bored.

A little bit of work needs to be done on the first chapter. I altered a few things that I didn't like so much, but the ending to the chapter kind of contradicts the rest of the fanfiction. Well, you'll see what I mean.

So, now I'm gonna waste my time on this. Well, at least I'm having fun, so I guess that's what matters. Right?

* * *

**II  
****Repercussions**

* * *

It was a long time before life went back to normal, though. 

Although Danny's short speech had apparently satisfied everyone, his sister found fault with it immediately.

"Danny!" she chided. "What were you thinking?"

Danny pulled his head out of the refrigerator. "Thinking about what?"

"What do you mean, 'thinking about what'? Making a scene in front of the entire town, that's what, and if I haven't seen anything as-"

Danny pulled a soda from the fridge and tapped the door shut with his foot, opening the can with a fizzy click. "Oh. That. What else was I supposed to do, Jazz? If I hadn't, the whole town would have followed me around for weeks! I wouldn't have been able to go ghost anywhere without risking being caught on camera!"

Jazz shook her head as Danny gulped his soda.

"Danny, that's not how it works!" the over-protective sister argued. "You just made them more curious as to what your identity is, not less!"

The ghost boy choked on his soda. "_What_?" he gasped.

"Exactly. Now everyone's going to want to know why you're hiding."

"Just why I said!" he cried, indignant. "Why else would I be trying to keep a secret identity?"

"'_I want to keep at least half of my life to be as normal as possible,_'" Jazz quoted. "Danny, no one's going to believe that's all you really want. It's called reverse psychology. All you did was make them _more_ curious, not less!"

Danny sat down at the kitchen table and buried his face in his hands. "What happened to my life? It used to be nice, quiet and peaceful, and all that ever happened was the Box Ghost randomly appearing, or Technus trying to rule the technological world, or Desiree granting wishes that didn't turn out too well, or Ember popping up and hypnotizing people. Life used to be _simple_."

Jazz raised an eyebrow. "Ember? As in, Ember McLean? Wait, she was a ghost, too?"

Danny looked up at his sister. "Yeah, Ember was a ghost. Really annoying ghost, too," he added under his breath, eyes flickering momentarily green.

"Anyway, you'll get through this, little brother," Jazz said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you will."

Danny smiled at his sister. "Thanks, Jazz."

"Don't mention it." Jazz tousled his hair playfully.

"Hey, Jazz, you know I don't like that!" Danny cried, shoving her hand away and attempting to smooth his hair.

"I know," Jazz smiled, ruffling his hair one last time before leaving the kitchen.

* * *

Valerie Gray watched the taped news broadcast for what was, by her count, the fourteenth straight time. She clutched the remote control in one hand, and paused right after the armored ghost—Skulker, if she remembered correctly—shocked the ghost boy. Those two odd, blue-white rings of energy that had appeared around her foe... 

"What were those, anyway?" she asked herself.

Valerie glared at the screen, concentrating on the ghost boy's torso, the part of his body that differed from his typical black-and-white jumpsuit. Instead, he wore what looked like normal blue jeans from the knees up and a white tee shirt, the lower half of some curved red shape visible just across his chest. The upper half of the shape was breached by one of those odd blue rings, and was replaced by that weird symbol he'd taken to wearing lately, some sort of jagged-edged D.

"Where have I seen that before?" she asked herself aloud. But, as it had the other thirteen times, no brilliant answer appeared in her head. The girl gave a long sigh and clicked play, letting the tape run through the rest of the clip.

"_Wh-what was that?_" Valerie watched herself ask as she lowered the gun she had had trained on the ghost boy's heart—or, at least, where a ghost's heart should have been.

The other ghost, Skulker, grinned. "_Why, didn't you know? The ghost boy, Danny Phantom, is half ghost!_"

Valerie watched as she fumbled with the bazooka, and mentally rebuked herself for the mistake. '_Never let your guard down_' was the lesson that she had trained herself in, and in those brief moments, she had failed.

"_How can anyone be half ghost?_" her television self gasped.

"_Ask him,_" Skulker replied. The ghost boy was thrust to her and she grabbed him by the arms, ignoring the gun she had been holding altogether. The Skulker ghost flew to the very edge of the screen before the ghost boy called back, "_Tell Plasmius he's going to pay for this!_"

"_Oh, don't worry, I will,_" was the hunter's response before he vanished altogether.

Valerie watched herself readjust her grip on the ghost boy's arm and return the weapon to her grasp. "_Explain or I'll shoot!_"

She watched as the ghost boy replied—rather weakly, it seemed, "_Now, do you really want to do that? If I really am...half-_unh-_half ghost, then that could be considered-_unh-_murder._"

Then the television ghost boy wrenched himself free from her hands and made himself invisible.

Valerie clicked the power button and turned her head away. She looked at the picture that she had printed, one of the ghost boy and how he had looked with those two rings around him and half-transformed into whatever his human self looked like.

Valerie had always thought that the ghost boy looked familiar, that she had seen him before. This odd feeling of déjà vu had only increased by the incident of earlier that day. She knew she had seen the ghost boy before.

And nothing would stop Valerie Gray from finding out where she had, and who the ghost boy was.

* * *

Tiffany Snow fiddled with the cord trailing from the end of her microphone. She half-heartedly glanced over the report for the evening news that sat upon the desk at the station. 

"I'd better get a raise for all this extra work," she mumbled.

"That's what _I've_ been saying all this time," an irate Lance Thunder replied, the weatherman overhearing the station broadcaster by chance. "Knew I should've taken that job in Chicago."

"It's not as bad for you, _you're_ just the weather man!" Tiffany retorted. "I'm the one who has to do extra work on this thing, not you. I even have to work with those ghost-hunting idiots! But do _I_ ever get any sympathy?"

"You'll get as much sympathy from me as I got from you during that skeleton disaster," Lance muttered.

"Hey, you got sympathy!"

"Yeah, but you were sitting nicely in this station while I was out there in that creepy dome."

"Miss Snow? We're going on the air in five," a man with headphones warned as he poked his head out from the glass control room.

"Oh! Yes, right!" Tiffany said, straightening up immediately and running her hands over her hair in a last minute grooming to make herself presentable on television. She shuffled the papers on the desk and donned a smile as Lance took his place before the blank, green weather report screen.

The camera flashed into life with ablinking redlight.

"Hello, I'm Tiffany Snow, and this is your six o'clock broadcast! Today's hot topic: the ghost boy, Danny Phantom, and what his real identity is."

Tiffany took a deep breath before continuing with the broadcast.

* * *

"Ah, good evening, Miss Chin. I take it that you're interested in the position?" the head of the Amity Park Angle, Robert Hanson, said brightly, leaning over the desk to shake the woman's hand. 

Harriet Chin beamed as she accepted the handshake. "Good evening, sir. Yes, I'm very interested. Journalism is my life."

"Excellent, excellent. Now, let's get down to business," the man said, leaning back in his chair and thumbing through a folder. "It says here that you were fired from your last position for the Milwaukee Journal for attempting to publish a story on ghosts?"

"That's right. I came here because I've heard of the recent happenings in Amity Park. I had hoped that you'd be more...understanding," Harriet responded pleasantly.

"Ah, yes. Well, if it's ghosts you want, you've come to the right place, Miss Chin. Now, what do you know about a ghost named Danny Phantom?"

Harriet bit her lip. "I'm afraid I don't recognize the name, Mr. Hanson."

"Then perhaps you know him as his other alias, Inviso-Bill?"

"No, I don't."

Robert opened a drawer in his desk and extracted a folder.

"Now," he said, opening it and handing her a series of pictures, "do you recognize any of these ghosts?"

Harried shook her head as she looked at the pictures. Most contained Danny, fighting various ghostly enemies. But she stopped at the last one.

It was a picture taken around the time of the Pariah Dark incident. She nodded and pointed to a vampiric figure floating beside the picture.

"That's the one," she said, narrowing her eyes. "The Wisconsin Ghost."

"He's from Wisconsin?" Robert asked. Harriet replied with a nod.

"Oh, yes. He's the one with a grudge against Jack Fenton."

"Jack Fenton? You don't mean the crazy ghost hunter who runs around in an orange jumpsuit, do you?"

"That's the one. Don't tell me _he's_ involved in this, too?" Harriet said.

"He and his family live here. Why? Did you know him?" Robert asked.

"We went to college together."

"Ah." Robert paused. "So, when did you learn about this Wisconsin Ghost?"

"At a college reunion in Wisconsin a few months back. That was the last time I saw Jack, too," Harriet replied.

"Very interesting," Robert mused. "Well, any more ghostly input to this?"

"No, Mr. Hanson."

"Very well, then." He sighed. "I suppose I should just go right out and tell you this. All the recent ghost attacks have caused quite an uproar. More than one of our employees have quit, and more will. It's a dangerous business anymore, Harriet. I'll be honest; we're desperate for help. If you're willing to join, you're in."

Harriet paused. Then, a smile grew over her face. "Oh, I'm willing, alright."

"Excellent," Robert replied. "Congratulations, Miss Chin. You're in."

* * *

Vlad Masters paced anxiously around his study. 

"I did what you asked, sir. May I inquire, why are you so nervous?" Skulker asked—or as he had put it, 'inquired'.

Vlad glared at the employee. "I've given you what you wanted, upgrades and Daniel humiliated. Must you stick around here as yet another thorn in my side?"

"Well, actually, yes," Skulker answered. "It's much nicer here than in the Ghost Zone. Besides, you have food. Real food, not that inedible ghost food that Lunch Lady makes."

"Mm-hm," Vlad said skeptically. "And the real reason?"

Skulker sighed. "It keeps me out of Walker's prison. Now, where's the kitchen again?"

"Downstairs, three doors to the left, make another right and don't upset my jersey display like you did last time!"

"Don't worry, sir, I won't," Skulker promised. Vlad glared as the ghostly hunter phased through the floor.

"Perhaps a ghost prison is a good place for him, after all," he mused. He turned his eyes to the ceiling, where a football scene was painted in the style of Michelangelo.

"So, Daniel guessed that it was me. Either he's getting smarter, or it was a lucky guess." Vlad paused. "It was a lucky guess," he confirmed.

"Still, I suppose I must guard my own secret more carefully from now on. I wouldn't put it past the boy to reveal it wholly in revenge. But that would mean revealing his own secret as well, and I don't think he wants to do that just yet. Either way, at least I've forced him into the position of being more cautious."

A crash was heard from downstairs, followed by a loud "Oops!" from Skulker.

"I _TOLD_ you not to upset the jersey display!" Vlad bellowed.

* * *

"_And now, here's Lance Thunder, with the weather._" 

Danny groaned and turned the television off, letting the remote fall from his hand and collapsing on the couch.

"So, how'd Mom and Dad's interview go?" Jazz asked from the kitchen.

"Amazing," Danny grunted. Jazz frowned and poked her head into the living room.

"Okay, fine," Danny sighed. "You know how it goes, Jazz. Dad accepts all praise on behalf of him, Jack Fenton, and Mom answers all the questions. I think she palmed Dad a few cookies, too."

Jazz grinned. "That's Mom and Dad for you."

"Yeah." Danny looked up from the couch and sniffed the air. "Jazz? Is something burning?"

"Oh my gosh!" she cried, vanishing through the entrance to the kitchen. "The salad!"

Danny settled back into the couch and turned the television back on, flipping through channels until he found one that satisfied him.

"Only Jazz could burn a salad," he chuckled.

"Hey! I heard that!" his sister's voice called from the kitchen.

Danny smirked and continued to watch the show.

* * *

Oh, I'm proud of myself. I spelled 'Milwaukee' right on the first try. Yes, that's my big accomplishment for today. 

So, this chapter was a bit shorter than I had intended, but it got the job done, and really, that's all that matters. So, short, but eventful. And more humorous, too, because I love throwing in little jokes like that. And references to other episodes. Those are fun, too!

Hm, this is also the first time I think I've ever done that much with Valerie. Weird. It seems like I've used her more before, but, no, I don't think I have. Although, for once, I'm confident that these guys are all in character! Well, except for that Robert guy I had to invent, but sometimes an author has to do that. Ah well.

So, next chapter will be longer, will be called 'Close Calls' unless I decide to change that title any time between now and then, and will be up whenever because I'm never specific about these dates. Heh, but this is fun. It does my heart good to write in the omniscient perspective again.

Ta!

-E.P.


	3. III: Suspicions

**SHE LIVES!**

…Well, not quite. Seeing as how I've been scared half to death/laughed myself half to death several times since I've last posted anything here, I'd say I'm about… Oh… well, somewhere around one hundred and twenty-seven one hundred and twenty-eighths of the way dead. Now to explain away my C in math somehow.

Well, either way, better late than never. That'll be my motto for a while, so if you're reading any of my other fanfictions, get used to it. Hah, it's an explanation, and an excuse! ...I think.

Ah, but remember, there are no such things as excuses, only reasons.

Anywho, if anyone's confused by Vlad's antics—and I bet you are—never fear. All will be explained in due time. So, in fact, will be the little snippets in here about other people. Hey, they aren't just thrown in there randomly, you know!

With that being said...

(PS: Honestly? I really have only the slightest idea where I'm going with this.)

* * *

**III  
Suspicions

* * *

**

Danny paced nervously around his room, a combination of adrenaline, worry, and just all-around anxiousness preventing him from sleeping.

It was stifling. He opened the window, but it did little to help. The air was warm and still. He slammed it shut and paced around the room once more.

Thinking...

_Vlad, it must've been. Skulker never works for anyone else. That thing...too much like the Plasmius Maximus for my liking. ...Was it? No, it looked different. I think._ Danny frowned. _Then maybe it wasn't Plasmius, just Skulker? But that makes no sense! Skulker wants my pelt (Ew); he couldn't care less about whether or not the town knows who I am._ Danny searched around for another possible suspect, going down a list of possible names. _Walker?_ But he dismissed the thought. _Skulker would never work for Walker. Unless he was being forced to? ...No, that can't be right. So it's Vlad. But...we had a truce! He wouldn't dare...and not because of my mom..._

Danny's frown deepened and he threw another dirty glare at the twighlight outside his window. Quiet, peaceful, still—a perfect night for flying. Only thing was, he couldn't risk being seen in public in his ghost form. Too many cameras, undoubtedly. But it was so hot!

And he wanted to fly.

As if on cue, there came a wisp of blue breath, shivers temporarily turning suffocating heat into icy cold. Danny paused in his restless pacing, wondering what to do. He battled with himself.

_It's an excuse..._

_But I can't risk anything!_

_Still, if it's a ghost..._

_Someone else can handle it!_

_No one else has a ghost sense; no one knows it's there..._

_Ghosts attack. They'll know._

_Exactly, and who could protect them...?_

_Mom and Dad._

_They're really not that great..._

_But Mom is._

_And there's Valerie._

_They'll be there no matter what. And if they see you..._

_They won't see me. I'll go invisible._

_Not to fight._

_I'll be fine; they can't catch me._

_They know what they're dealing with, now; they can._

_It's probably only the Box Ghost._

_They could take care of it._

_But if they aren't there..._

_They'll be there. They always are._

_I'll bet Valerie's out right now._

_She's still not as good as me._

_What if it isn't the Box Ghost?_

_...What if it's Vlad?_

_Then it's part of his plan. Best to not play into his hands._

_Maybe..._

_Maybe..._

Danny shook off the last traces of his ghost sense and tried, for the first time, to suppress it. He didn't need to know if there were ghosts around. He didn't need to fight anymore—it was too dangerous, anyway. What was the worst that could happen?

_But, still... A lot can happen—has happened—to this town._

Danny sat on the broad windowsill and buried his face in his hands. Ghost sense again—he shivered, and buried it. Shook it off, and buried it, thrusting it away from him, his thoughts, and even his subconscious mind.

_That should do it,_ he thought with grim satisfaction. _If I can't sense ghosts, I won't fight them, and—well, it'll be better for everyone._

Exhausted with the effort of thought and the emotional and mental aspects of the day, Danny fell asleep, right on the windowsill.

* * *

Dawn came and went.

Danny's alarm rang itself hoarse and stopped, deciding that, if its owner weren't up by then, its owner simply wouldn't get up.

"Danny!" his mother's voice drifted up from downstairs. "Breakfast's ready!"

Still he continued to sleep.

Jazz passed the bathroom and frowned. Danny hadn't been at breakfast, so she'd assumed that he was still getting ready. But she heard neither the running water of the shower, nor the sound of Danny dropping something clumsily in his drowsy, early morning way.

She checked his room. All Jazz saw was the empty bed. She didn't look as far as the windowsill.

The empty bed worried her. She frowned, closed the door, bit her lip. If Danny wasn't in the kitchen, wasn't in the bathroom, wasn't sleeping in late...

She stomped her foot in frustration. Her brother was so stupid! He must be out fighting some ghost or other—and after yesterday!

Jazz gritted her teeth and went downstairs, preparing every likely alibi in her mind. It never hurt to be prepared.

* * *

"Danny!" Maddie called, going up the stairs. She passed her daughter, whose brow was furrowed in deep thought. The maternal figure of the Fenton family passed it off as just Jazz's way of preparing for some test or other that day at school, and continued on her way upstairs.

"Danny?" she asked, tapping on the bathroom door. The door swung open, revealing an empty bathroom.

"Danny! Wake up!" she cried, stomping on down the hallway and pushing open the door to his room with far more noise than was necessary. She had learned that, with Danny in the mornings, it was best to make as much noise as possible.

"DANNY!" she shouted, shoving every cover and the pillow off the bed. _THAT should wake him up,_ she thought with satisfaction, but only until she noticed that her son wasn't present. Maddie frowned and left the room, overlooking—as had Jazz—that Danny was, in a feat of balance, simply asleep on the window sill.

She returned downstairs, to find her husband sneaking a peanut butter cookie from the cookie jar. Maddie chose to ignore it, and instead addressed her husband.

"Jack," she said (and here he jumped, whirled around, and hid the cookie behind his back like a guilty child), "I can't find Danny anywhere!"

Determining that his wife would not, in fact, reprimand him for early-morning snacking today, Jack shoved the cookie in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. He swallowed. "Normally he's in his bed, or trying to avoid going to school."

Maddie shook her head and took a seat at the table. "I've looked everywhere, Jack," she answered, despite the fact that the one place she had not checked was the windowsill of Danny's room. "He's nowhere to be found."

"Mmmm," Jack answered, eating another two cookies and downing the lot with a swig of milk. He wiped his chin. "It's not like Danny to miss breakfast. Maybe a ghost—"

"Jack, that's brilliant!" Maddie shouted, leaping up. "I'll scan the house for spectral activity immediately!" she swept her hood and goggles over her face and gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek.

"Ah," said Jack after her retreating figure. "Then does that mean I can eat his breakfast?"

When no reply was forthcoming, he helped himself to Danny's by now rather cold morning meal.

* * *

Maddie ran into Jazz who shouted a quick goodbye as she ran out the door, realizing she was late for two morning tutoring sessions with a few sophomores. "Bye, sweetie!" Maddie answered her daughter, taking her attention off of the Fenton Finder for only the briefest moment it took to acknowledge her eldest child.

"Ghost detected," the Fenton Finder bleeped in a feminine monotone. "Ghost directly above you."

She hurried up the stairs.

"Ghost ahead." Maddie moved faster.

The Finder led her straight into her son's room.

_Hah!_, Maddie thought, _I've got you now, ghostie!_ and leaped over the threshold into her son's room.

Nothing. Not even a 'Boo'.

"Well, that's odd. I could have sworn-" she began, but was cut off immediately by the Fenton Finder.

"BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! Ghost directly ahead! Ghost power capacity exceeds expected levels! BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! You would have to be some kind of idiot not to notice the ghost directly ahead of you! BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! Thank you for using the Fenton Finder. Have a nice day!"

Danny jerked awake and fell off the windowsill.

Maddie jumped at the resulting crash. "Danny!" she shouted, and ran over.

Danny was still mostly asleep, groggy, and very disconcerted and surprised to find himself on the floor. At first he thought—well, he wasn't sure what he thought. Most likely, something along the lines of 'five more minutes.'

"Ohhh..." he groaned, forcing himself into a halfway-sitting position. "I feel like I fell out a window..."

"Sweetie! Oh, I'm sorry—are you alright?"

"Wha- Mom! Wh-what are you doing here?" Danny asked, blue eyes focusing on his mother.

"Oh, well, we couldn't find you this morning, so we thought it was a ghost, and—what were you doing, sleeping on your window sill?" Maddie switched off the Fenton Finder, which was now bleeping on to say, "You must be less competent than Jack Fenton to not notice the ghost in this general vicinity."

"Thank you," Danny moaned to the sky. He turned to answer his mother's question. "Oh...Well, I was having a hard time sleeping, so..."

"So you fell asleep on your window."

"Uh, yeah," Danny finished, rather lamely. He lowered his eyes. "I, uh—sorry."

"No matter, sweetie, I'm just glad you're alright." She glanced at Danny's digital clock. "Oh my goodness! It's already seven thirty! Danny, you'd better hurry or you'll be late for school!"

"Not like it'll be different from any other day," Danny muttered.

"What was that?"

"Er, nothing, nothing. So, do I get breakfast, or did Dad eat it already?"

* * *

Shelly Makamoto stomped into the station that day with a fully disgruntled air. She flung her bag down on a desk and marched right up to Tiffany Snow, and shoved an accusing finger in her face.

"So!" she fumed, "I'm out sick for one week—_one week_—and you make the biggest story of a lifetime without me! I wouldn't have believed it of you, Tiffy, but all's fair in show business, isn't it!"

"I-" Tiffany said, leaning away from her angered coworker.

"Oh, save your breath for the camera, Snow! You staged this whole act!"

"Shelly?" Lance asked. "I knew you were sick, but I didn't know it extended so far as a mental illness."

Shelly stared at him, opening and closing her mouth, fishlike, several times. Tiffany stifled a giggle.

"You're in on this too, aren't you?" Shelly accused, when she finally managed speech.

"What are you talking about? I'm just the weatherman," he mumbled, and thumbed through a stack of papers. Tiffany glanced at them; weather charts and such stuff. She'd never understand it.

"I- but you're..." Shelly stopped. "Oh, fine." She sighed and collapsed in a chair. "I'm just more than a little tired. A week sick, then a great day yesterday, and I missed it."

"Oh, it wasn't all that-" Tiffany began, but stopped at the look Shelly thrust at her. "Okay, so it was. Here," she handed Shelly her own stack of stories. "This is all what's what. Familiarize yourself; you've got about twenty minutes before you're going out to report live on our Ghost Boy story. And think of a good name for it, too, while you're at it."

"Really?" Shelly remarked, shuffling through the papers. She pulled out a pen and scribbled out a quick few notes. Shelly looked up at Tiffany. "Thanks, then."

Tiffany tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Don't thank me; you're the one who's gonna run around out there. Everyone's going crazy for news on this, and I really don't think we're going to find that ghost around anywhere if he doesn't want to be found. He went up and talked to us all before, and I'd be willing to bet that that's that. But if nothing picks up, you'll be stuck with another interview with the Fentons. Me, I'm just glad I get to stay here in this studio."

"Well, hey, if I've got the worst job at this station, I might as well make the most of it," she said, glumly, but with a hint of optimistic cheerfulness.

Lance, who was by now feeling thoroughly depressed with the morning, corrected, "No, I've got the worst job at this station."

"What are you talking about? Even you said so yourself—you're just the weatherman," Shelly answered.

"Oh, really? Let me see that." He grabbed the papers from her hands, ignoring her loud protest of, "Hey!"

"We're here live on the scene where the famous Ghost Boy was last spotted," he read in a falsely high-pitched voice. "With us for an exclusive interview are Amity Park's own resident ghost hunters, Jack and Maddie Fenton, to shed some light on the case of the most recent discovery—or rather, near-discovery—of Danny Phantom's true identity." Lance looked up over the paper. "Oh, that's _so_ terribly hard! It almost _killed_ me to say all that. Hmph."

"Well, not when you've been out with the flu for a week," Shelly said crossly. But no sympathy came, and after a few minutes, she said—even more crossly, "Lance? Are you even listening to me?"

He looked up from the piece of paper. "Hmm? It's just that I just noticed… Fenton, Phantom... Isn't it ironic that the ghost hunters' and the ghost's last names sound so similar?"

Shelly gave him an angry look and grabbed the papers from his hands. "You're the weatherman," she said, shooing him away with a wave. "So go do weather!"

* * *

Valerie ran through the hallways of Casper High, thinking that they had been designed that way for the sole purpose of providing a confusing labyrinth that would make it more difficult for students to get to classes on time.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man!" she mumbled as she skidded around a corner. "I can't be late again!"

She was tired, too, and it wasn't helping. She'd fought some odd ghost—she hadn't caught the name—who had insisted on asking no less than a dozen times whether or not she'd be his friend last night. The Friendly Fiend, as she'd settled on calling him until further notice, was the first of a good many ghosts of that night. Sleeping wasn't much of a possibility, either, as she'd spent the whole night poring over that picture of the partly de-transformed ghost boy until she fell asleep. The picture, which she had tucked into her Math book, was still covered with a reasonable amount of drool.

And then, not to help matters, some sort of tentacled creature had held her up on the way to school, making her even more late than she already—

"Oof!"

Valerie glared up from the floor at whoever had knocked her down. "Watch where you're going, creep!"

"Shoot! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I was just late and— Wait, Valerie?"

"Danny?" Valerie blinked and took in the image of her boyfriend. _Well, ex-boyfriend,_ she reminded herself bitterly. _But for the best, really._

"I, uh...Hi." The ghost boy scrambled around, clumsily gathering up Valerie's books, and then clumsily scrambling to his own feet and shoving the books at her. "Here." He seemed to realize that she was still sitting on the floor, and extended a hand to help her up, dropping two of her books in the process.

"Here," he repeated. Valerie took his hand and allowed him to help her up. Both blushed shyly.

"I..." Valerie began. She accepted the proffered books. "Thanks." She bent to pick up the rest from the ground. As she grabbed her math text, however, a slip of paper fell from the pages and fluttered to the ground. She retrieved that, glared at the picture, and looked up at Danny with a softened expression.

Then she did a double take.

And a triple take.

Undeniably, the ghost boy in his human form and Danny wore the same clothes.

"D-Danny?" Valerie asked shakily.

"Yeah?"

"Are those-" she paused, choosing her words carefully. Danny didn't know that she was the mysterious hunter who chased ghosts. She couldn't tell or even hint as much to him. She finally decided on the casual (she hoped) remark of, "Say, Danny? Where did you buy that outfit?"

Danny blinked, entirely taken aback by the question. "Gee, uh...I don't really remember."

"But you must have some idea, don't you?" Valerie asked, inwardly rolling her eyes, shaking her head, and thinking, _Boys. Don't care enough about fashion to remember where they bought their clothes._

"Well...Try the mall, I guess, but...why do you want to know?" he asked, sudden suspicion glinting in his eyes.

"Um," Valerie said. _Think fast, Gray._ "I was just wondering...because...Well, my cousin, see, it'll be his birthday in a few days, and I was thinking that his wardrobe could use an upgrade, and because, you know, you've got such a great taste in clothes and he looks a little like you—not exactly like you, but kind of like you, you know, and I was thinking that maybe it would be a good thing...to get...for…him." _Oh, man, why am I still talking? Ugh, I am such a spaz!_ "Yeah."

"I didn't know you had a cousin," Danny remarked. _Thoughtfully,_ Valerie noted, _and casually. I can't believe I pulled that one off!_

"Well, anyway," Danny continued, thrusting Valerie's last book into her arms, "I guess I'd better get to class. See ya around, Val."

"Bye, Danny!" she waved. "And hello, Ghost Boy," she said darkly, looking at the picture in her hands. Her first—and only—lead to finding out who Danny Phantom really was. _It's a good thing they both wear the same clothes._

_...Hey, and that's weird...They both have the same first name!_

_What a coincidence._

The bell signaling the end of first period trilled through the air. Valerie winced as people flooded the hallways.

_Ah. Well this sucks! You'll have to wait for after school,_ she silently told the Ghost Boy, and tucked his picture into her notebook.

* * *

And there you have it! One great big chapter full of wonderful chapterness. Whoop. I know I said that this chapter would be entitled Close Calls, but Suspicions fit it better somehow. And I'd totally intended it to be longer, but that's just the way it falls out. But, hey, quite a bit of humor, lots of thoughts, lots of sentence fragments…Oh, it's just my style here, see? Ten pages, whoop, although I think about nine minus the author notes.

I was gonna have a bit with Vlad in here, too, but I've decided that that can wait. I need for…er…a few things to happen first. Yeah. I have that much of the plot worked out, about two chapters ahead. Congratulate me on that I managed to remember that for however many months it's been since I last updated...anything. Heh heh.

If you'd like to read more of my useless rambles, explanations, ect., then you may feel free to check out my profile. Or, if you're reading any of my other stories and are wondering whatever the heck's happened to them, that'd be good, too.

Thanks for reading. Now review, and not only will I be ecstatic and remember to reply in a timely manner, I'll give you an imaginary Vlad plushie that says, "Oh, butter biscuits!" when you squeeze it. :D

-E.P.


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